I am a Flower Field

I am a flower field,

ignorant daisies & people pleasing petunia

fears of not being wondrous enough

for your garden. My seeds

had already taken root,

but the only thing

you thought I was good for was picking,

my petals peeling in your third-degree hands.

Here

I know not everyone eats organic.

I know not everyone likes flowers,

the plump and pure pollen

clogging steadfast esophagus & lonely lungs—

so why am I the one who chokes?

Here

Dread soaks down to my bones & chokes my uvula.  

I decide. You’re not the only one who can

make up facts about the moon

being where we travel when we dream,

& I promise you

Here

nobody wants to know what happens

when this being of light sees the darkness.